


Inked

by 221brosiewilde



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Comeplay, M/M, Rimming, Tattoos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-24
Updated: 2013-12-24
Packaged: 2018-01-06 00:05:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1100129
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/221brosiewilde/pseuds/221brosiewilde
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jim has a tattoo. Sebastian acts accordingly.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Inked

It comes as a surprise, to say the least.

Everything had started out innocently enough. It was Sunday, and Jim was sitting on the couch, curled up with his laptop, typing furiously, and leisurely checking his phone in turns, no doubt sending out as many threats as possible, new orders, and putting the finishing touches on whatever plans needed fine tuning. Sebastian was seated on the floor, a MASH marathon on tv (the volume put down low so he wouldn't have to deal with Jim grumbling about how he couldn't think, and so he'd stay in the same room with him for once instead of skulking over to his office), his guns spread out around him as well as a bottle of gun oil, cotton swabs, and a cleaning rod by his side.

They'd been like this for over an hour, and Seb had to admit that it was a nice change from how busy they'd been over the last few months, barely talking to each other, only seeing each other when they woke up in the morning and the other was just getting in from a hit (Sebastian) or a meeting (Jim), and then falling into their respective beds to catch a few hours of sleep before it was time to move on to the next thing that needed doing. It was fine. It was work. And Sebastian wouldn't trade it for anything.

But he did miss Jim.

He missed how domestic life had become between them, though his definition of domesticity was far different from what other people considered the word to mean. He missed handing Jim his tea in the morning, and how rumpled and bedheaded he'd look before he really woke up. He missed the way they would argue with each other about tactical plans, or whether an employee needed to be done away with. He missed the way Jim would wrinkle his nose in disgust every time Sebastian came back from the pub or a rugby match with his army mates, smelling like sweat and cigarette smoke and cheap beer.

Jim huffs out a frustrated sigh, and gets up from the couch, walking over to the kitchen to make himself some tea, a true sign that he was too distracted to remember Sebastian even existed. Of course Sebastian can't help but watch him, liking the way Jim looks when he's out of his suits and in an old t-shirt, soft, grey sweatpants slung low on his hips. He looks softer that way, less like a force of nature contained only by fabric, and more like one of the tired uni students Sebastian sometimes sees on his way home.

Jim starts the water and leans against the counter as he waits for the kettle to boil. He chews on his bottom lip, dark eyes fixed on the linoleum floor, no doubt piecing together the next part of a puzzle to help out a client, and it hits Sebastian.

Right. He missed the sex too.

Not that what they were doing was technically, in Sebastian's opinion anyway, sex. It was more like blowjobs after a meeting that Jim had been so brilliant in Sebastian couldn't resist pushing him up against a wall afterwards and dropping to his knees just to taste him. Or Jim sliding his hand into Sebastian's pants while he lined up a shot, just to see if he still had a steady aim with Jim's fist around him, whispering filthy things into his ear. Or even just one of them realizing the other looked tense, and dragging them onto the couch to kiss and grind against each other until they were gasping and needed a change of clothes. It was all of those things. And it was good.

But it was always so hurried. 

Sebastian couldn't count how many times he'd come into his own hand at the thought of Jim spread out on his bed, naked, and so well fucked he couldn't form a coherent sentence, of touching and tasting Jim until that clever mouth of his begged for Sebastian to get inside of him already. Based on the sounds Jim made during what they'd already done together, Sebastian could tell that he'd be vocal, and seeing how many noises he could pull out of Jim would not be a hardship. He looks over at Jim, wondering if he could attempt to start anything now, even though they were both otherwise preoccupied.

There's a curse from the kitchen and the sound of something shattering against the wall.

That would be a no.

He sighs and reassembles the gun he'd been cleaning with practiced hands, barely paying attention to anything else as he plays over various fantasies involving Jim.

"Sebastian," Jim barks, snapping to get his attention, and Seb looks over to see Jim glaring at him with his hands on his hips, a stark contrast to the Jim that had just been begging for it in his mind. Everything in his expression tells Seb that it wasn't the first time he'd called his name. "Tea. Where did you put it?"

"It's where it always is," he answers, picking up the next gun in the line (a glock, only used a few times, but he might as well clean it while he has it out), and disassembling it.

An annoyed sigh. "Which would be...?"

"How do you not know where the tea is by now?"

"Well I usually have more important things on my mind other than where you decide to stash the Earl Grey," Jim says, his smile too sweet to be genuine. Sebastian rolls his eyes - smart arse - and gestures to the top cabinet.

"Second shelf," he says, watching as Jim opens the cabinet, and stretches up to reach the tin of tea they keep there, his shirt riding up to reveal the pale skin at the small of his back. "Honestly, it wouldn't kill you to-"

Sebastian stops dead, staring at Jim...or rather at the black outline of whatever image etched into his skin is peeking out from under the waistband of his sweatpants. His mouth goes dry, and the sudden urge to slide up behind Jim and push his shirt up to just look is nearly unbearable.

Because that is definitely a tattoo.

Jim Moriarty has a tattoo, and Sebastian can't remember the last time he'd gotten this hard so quickly.

The realization only takes a moment, and in that time Jim has already taken down the tin, put the tea in the infuser, and put it back on the shelf. Sebastian curses himself for zoning out and missing the opportunity to get a second look so he could figure out what the tattoo actually was, and manages to close his mouth before Jim can notice he'd been staring.

"To what?"

Seb startles at the sound of Jim's voice, something he never does, and it earns him a confused look. "Sorry," he says quickly, "Uh...what?"

"You were about to say something bitchy," Jim reminds him, and Sebastian isn't sure whether it's amusement or concern on his face.

"I was?"

"Ye-es." Jim rolls his eyes, turning to stir his tea. Sebastian can't help but let his eyes drop to where he now knows the tattoo is, the gun forgotten in his hands, until Jim turns around again and he brings his eyes up to his face again, met with a frown. "Are you alright?" Jim asks, walking back over to his spot on the couch, and Seb knows he must look completely stricken if Jim is asking him if he's alright. "You're all...flushed. You're not coming down with something are you? You know how I feel about illness."

Sebastian shakes his head, taking a deep breath and quickly turning back to the glock in his hand. "No, no. I'm fine. Just tired, I guess." He stares at the gun, all too aware of Jim sipping his tea and trying to figure out what was really wrong, though it should be obvious. He'd always been a shit liar. He decides that he'll only make a fool of himself if he says anything else, and instead he concentrates on getting the rest of his guns clean, taking his time like he would under normal circumstances.

When he eventually finishes up, he gathers everything into the box he'd brought it out in and walks back into his bedroom, planning on putting everything away and collapsing into bed.

"Don't forget about the deal we have tomorrow at one," Jim calls, and Sebastian shuts his door without answering, locking it inaudibly. He strips as quickly as possible and lays down on his bed, taking himself in hand, and stroking tight and fast. The images of Jim fill his mind; Jim on his knees in front of him with the tattoo in full view, Jim with his face in his arms and his hips canted up as Sebastian pushes into him from behind, his palm laid on that tattoo like a brand, and then afterwards licking his own come off of it, biting at the slightly raised lines on the outline.

It's only a few minutes later that he's coming, biting the heel of his hand to stifle a low groan because the walls were thin and the relief was too perfect to remain silent. 

He looks at the clock on his nightstand, and sets his alarm for early the next morning. He'd wake up early and go for a run. Just something to calm down before having to stand by Jim all day. Knowing what was under his clothes and not being able to touch was going to be torture, but hopefully getting a few miles under him would do something to relieve the tension.

-

The run goes well. Sebastian is able to log at least four miles before Jim texts him and tells him to come home and get ready for a briefing about the meeting. He comes home, showers, and meets Jim in the office, managing to pay attention to him long enough to understand what the meeting was about.

It was going to be simple. They'd meet with their client, get their money, and Jim would talk about the finer points of how they'd be handling the case. Easy.

They arrive at the building where they're meeting their client a few minutes early. Sebastian checks for bugs, hidden weapons, maps out the exits and entrances while Jim lays out the fake documents he'd forged so their client could safely cross the American border, leaning over the small desk in the middle of the mostly empty room. Sebastian tries, really tries, not to think about the tattoo sitting under Jim's suit, hidden under layers of designer fabric and a standoffish attitude.

He wonders when he'd gotten it, has been wondering since the night before, and already he has it narrowed down to a few theories. The first, and most likely, was that he'd gotten it for a disguise of some sort. Sebastian knows how Jim has the uncanny ability to make himself look younger than he actually is, and having a tattoo would only cement an impulsive, twenty something disguise into place. Granted, it was a little extreme, but he's never known Jim to do anything halfway. And besides, tattoos were permanent, and if he had one then he could use it more than once. Jim would probably think of it as a good investment if not anything else.

The next theory would be that Jim got the tattoo so his real body could be identified should anything happen to him. The thought immediately darkens Sebastian's mood when he thinks about the last two times he'd had to make a trip to the morgue and say that yes, it was Jim's body on the slab.

Both accounts had been bad for Sebastian.

And the thought that Jim had an identifying mark on his body that couldn't easily be faked and that he hadn't thought to share with Sebastian only made him feel worse. Or maybe he'd gotten it for someone when he'd been younger, and only that person knew about it. Maybe Jim had a family member that he still kept in touch with. Or a friend from uni who didn't know that he spent his free time blowing things up and threatening to ruin peoples lives for a living, but who he still made time to get coffee and catch up with once in a while.

Or a lover.

Sebastian frowns, and clenches his jaw, not realizing it until his teeth begin to protest.

There was so much about Jim that he didn't know. The man was so secretive. He'd leave for long stretches at a time in various types of outfits depending on who he needed to be to get something done. He'd receive packages from all over the world that Sebastian knew better than to open. He could come home in the cheeriest mood, or the worst. Sometimes he wouldn't speak for days, and when he did it was like his words were trying to come up for air, all racing to get out of his mouth at once. His accent changed depending on a combination of who he was speaking to, what he wanted, and where he was. Sebastian's sure that he's never heard Jim's real voice, though he thinks that it's probably the one he speaks with during sex, thick and low and Irish. And he's not sure if they've ever had a conversation outside of work or sex that wasn't about either work or sex. Every time Sebastian tries to broach the subject of life outside of the empire Jim's built, he's met with silence, or a skillful change of subject.

So it's entirely possible that the man has, or had, a lover that Sebastian isn't privy to. And maybe that lover had been deemed worthy enough in Jim's eyes to warrant a permanent token of affection in the shape of whatever was inked into his lower back.

The curiosity is positively maddening.

"See something you like?"

Jim's voice plucks Sebastian out of his reverie, and he snaps to attention, unclenching his jaw with an audible crack.

"What?"

"You've been staring at my arse for the last ten minutes and now you look like someone's just kicked your puppy," Jim says, raising an eyebrow. "Talk about a mixed signal."

"Sorry. I was just...thinking about the job."

"You were thinking about the job?"

"Yes."

"While staring at my arse?"

Sebastian hesitates. "Yes."

Jim looks at Sebastian doubtfully, studying his face for any sign that he's not telling the truth. Sebastian knows he's a terrible liar, but there's no proof that he's lying. Jim must realize this because he just turns around again, folding up the documents and putting them back into their respective folders.

"You've been acting odd since yesterday," Jim notes, and though the man is still an enigma in most aspects, Sebastian's been around him long enough to know when he's trying to sound nonchalant.

"Why do you say that?" Seb asks,.

"Because you have," Jim says like it's obvious, which Sebastian supposes it is. It was a dumb question anyway. "If something's bothering you, you're going to have to deal with it yourself. I plan on sleeping for at least twelve hours after we get out of here."

At that, Sebastian smirks. "Just sleeping?"

It's a gamble, especially when Jim's been so busy lately, nearly working himself to the bone to get this job finished, and Sebastian doesn't know if propositioning him is the best idea right now.

But the need to trace the edges of that tattoo with his tongue as he's inside of him to see if it makes Jim gasp, is too strong for him to play it safe anymore.

He meets Jim's eyes, and instead of getting snapped at, Seb is met with a slow smirk, and a shrug.

"It's been a while," he says, looking at Sebastian as if he's just realized how long it's been since the last time they'd touched each other. "Maybe not just sleeping then."

Sebastian grins, and the tenseness in the room dissipates a bit, leaving a warm feeling of anticipation in its wake.

-

They barely make it back to the flat afterwards.

Sebastian has Jim pinned to the wall of the living room, one leg pressing between his thighs, and his hands working clumsily at his belt, trying to get Jim as naked as possible as fast as he can. They're both panting hard, partly from the exertion of running up the stairs, and partly from the way they're kissing the air out of each other's lungs, but Sebastian can't bring himself to care. Not now. Not when he has Jim pressed tight against him making eager, gasping noising into his mouth.

The meeting had gone brilliantly.

Money had been handed over, and so had the proper documents.Of course, two of the man's guards had needed to be killed after they'd tried to get away without paying, and their client no longer had an eye, but compared to some of the other meetings they'd had, this one had been relatively simple. He was finally out of their hair, and now they could both relax.

Jim pulls away and yanks at Sebastian's tie before getting frustrated and going for his buttons, undoing them with quick fingers. "Bedroom," he breathes, biting hard at Sebastian's bottom lip. "Now."

Or not.

Fortunately Sebastian knows how to take orders (most of the time), and it isn't long before they're in Jim's bedroom. His body thrums with anticipation as he pushes Jim onto the bed, crawling on top of him, pinning his wrists above his head. The fantasies from last night come back in full force when he hears Jim make a noise of approval, arching his hips up eagerly, searching for friction, and Sebastian can't resist giving it to him. They both groan at the contact.

"You know, I don't think I've ever seen you so desperate," Jim notes. There's a break in his voice when Sebastian kisses his throat, teeth grazing over the spot just behind his ear, and he huffs out a breathless laugh. "Usually you're all about - ah - taking your time."

"I like the noises you make when you get frustrated." Sebastian tosses his undershirt onto the floor, and makes quick work of Jim's jacket and tie, concentrating. He's so close to being able to touch that fucking tattoo he's practically salivating. They've never done this. They've never taken the time to actually undress and study each other's bodies. It was always quick and efficient, and never on a bed. This was new, and Sebastian wasn't going to wait. He'd already waited too long. The buttons of his shirt are done next, and Jim sits up to take his shirt off, taking advantage of how close their faces are to study Sebastian closely.

"But why are you in such a rush now?"

"You're the one who wanted to get started in the car," Seb shoots back, but Jim's shaking his head, looking tense.

"Don't change the subject," Jim reprimands, snappish. It's one of the signs that Sebastian should be treading lightly. Fine.

"I was just-"

"Don't lie."

"I wasn't going to," Sebastian growls, and Jim narrows his eyes so he takes a deep breath, making sure he's calm before he speaks again. "I've just been...waiting for this."

Which isn't a total lie. But it's still not the truth.

Jim lets the surprise show on his face for a brief moment before it's shoved back and replaced with something predatory.

"Why Seb," Jim breathes, a dirty smirk sliding over his face, "how very gentlemanly of you not to rush me."

"Fuck off."

Sebastian meets the crush of Jim's lips with rendering ferocity, and they tear at each other, ripping the rest of their clothes off until all that's left is the hot slide of bare skin slicked with sweat. It's a heady thing. Jim is exactly like Sebastian had expected in his fantasies, all curses, and nails, and greedy mouth, but it's...more. It's actually real this time.

The thought has Sebastian stilling Jim's hips a few minutes later, too close to the edge for any more movement, and he does not want this to be over just yet.

Not when he still has yet to get his hands on that tattoo.

Jim huffs out a breath of frustration, but stills beneath him.

"Already?" he asks. "You know I pegged you for having a bit more stamina than that."

"Shut up." Sebastian shuts his eyes, breathing evenly through his nose as he thinks of something else, anything but the sudden feeling of Jim's fingers brushing against his length. He growls a warning, and suddenly Jim's hand is around the base of his cock, squeezing hard. The urge to come goes away, but he's left with the pain of denied release, and that's not quite as pleasant.

"There's a quick fix for everything, darling," Jim says, smirking.

"You're the expert, after all."

"I am, aren't I?" Jim laughs, pleased, and suddenly his hand is loose around Sebastian's cock, moving slowly. "And I think you look tense."

Sebastian groans, unable to help himself. Jim is good with his hands, and they've done this enough times that he knows all the right places to touch and put pressure.

"Is that your professional opinion?" he asks after a moment, breathless, and fighting the urge to press into Jim's fist. Jim flips him over suddenly, and then Sebastian's the one being straddled, staring straight at Jim's smirk.

"I'd say so. But this isn't just anticipation," Jim says, leaning down and kissing Sebastian before moving to leave biting kisses along the length of his throat. He pauses when his teeth are at Sebastian's ear. "You've been keeping something from me," he whispers.

Sebastian's eyes, closed in bliss just a few moments before, fly open and find Jim. Caught.

"I..." The words die in his throat when Jim raises a challenging eyebrow at him, and he grimaces. He was caught. His silence and guilty look had to have given him away immediately. He might as well just own up to it now because there was no way in hell Jim was ever going to let it go.

And since when did he ever have a problem talking about sex anyway? It's not like getting turned on by a tattoo was something to be embarrassed about. People had tattoo kinks. That was a thing, wasn't it? Hell, the first time he'd let Jim see him shirtless, the little freak had practically mauled him; pinned him to the bed, and demanded to know where each and every scar had come from. Everyone had their ticks.

"Fine," he says finally, and sits up, wanting to be eye level with Jim when he said it. It was a stupid thing to worry about. Jim would understand.

Maybe.

"Yesterday," he says, letting his hand slide over to Jim's lower back, "I saw this." He trails his fingers over the edges of the tattoo, and takes a breath to steady himself. It's just ink pressed into skin. That's all. Stop it.

Jim's face remains blank, but it's a clear invitation to keep speaking so he continues.

"And I was...It's... I was curious about it," he finishes lamely, shrugging. "You don't seem like the type to get a tattoo."

"Don't I?"

"Not really."

"Why?"

Sebastian huffs out a laugh at Jim's confusion. "You wear suits that cost more than most people's yearly salaries, you don't like having to take care of anything, let alone the aftercare for a new tattoo, and you hate germs. I just can't picture you getting one, especially not there." He digs his nails into Jim's skin, and he gets a satisfying groan in return for his trouble. Sebastian grins, and waits for Jim to answer for it.

"I was young. I was drunk. I was in uni. You fill in the blanks." Jim shrugs, tracing a finger over one of the scars on Sebastian's chest with interest. "There's really no interesting story to go with it. What I want to know is why you got all flustered yesterday when you noticed it."

That's fairly disappointing, but Sebastian can't help but be happy that there's no secret lover or emotional story behind it. He doesn't think he could handle anything that heavy right now, not with Jim naked and visibly eager in his lap. He shakes his head to clear his thoughts and answers.

"I figured that should be obvious."

"Well it's not," Jim replies, voice derailing in tone in the way that Sebastian had learned to mean he was annoyed. Right. If there was one thing Jim hated it was being told something was obvious when he didn't understand.

"Because," Sebastian starts, tracing the edges of the tattoo, and god if Jim would just stop needing an explanation for everything, he could have him pinned on his knees, pressing inside of him right now. But he chooses his words carefully, working his mouth down Jim's jaw as he thinks, not that there's really any tactful way to say it. "You have a tramp stamp."

Sebastian waits to be hit, but instead Jim just sounds amused. "A what?"

"That's what they call them," he says, giving a little shrug. "People get them when they want to be sexy, I suppose."

"Since when is the lower back particularly sexy?" Jim asks, a dip appearing in his brow when he frowns.

"Since always I guess." Sebastian flips them over, manhandling Jim onto his stomach and pinning his hands above his head. Jim struggles at the change in position, growling in warning. Sebastian kisses him in apology. He'd learned early on that if there was one thing the man didn't like, it was being restrained. He loosens his hold on Jim's wrists and instead twines their fingers together, grinding against his backside slowly. Jim lets out a pleased hum and Sebastian smirks in response. "Since you put a tattoo there."

Jim huffs out a laugh and cants his hips up, pressing his chest into the bed, and sounding a bit breathless when he speaks. "I didn't realize it was such an interesting spot."

"Well if you think about it," Sebastian says, kissing his way down Jim's spine. "It definitely gives the viewer something nice to look at in the act."

"Mm, I suppose," Jim purrs, sounding more relaxed than Sebastian can remember him being in a long time. "But I imagine it might get a little boring after a while."

"Not at all," Sebastian replies, grazing his teeth over the dark lines and swirled dark colors. He pulls back a little, and finally looks at the tattoo. He takes in the small dots and shapes, the intersecting lines and the long oval that outlines the entire thing. It's good work, not blurred or missing ink anywhere which is surprising to him. He would have expected Jim to not keep up tattoo aftercare, but from the pristine look of the thing, it looks like he kept up his end of the bargain. And, though he'd never considered himself much into art, he has to admit that it is beautiful. The more he looks the more he can see all the small details inside of it.

"It's...the sky," he says after a moment, still dumbfounded.Jim turns his head to look at him and nods.

"The night sky," he clarifies. "The exact copy of what it looked like when I was born. Astrophysicist, remember?"

"I thought you said it was spur of the moment." Sebastian raises an eyebrow, and brushes his thumb over what he thinks might be Orion. Jim shivers.

"It was," he says, sounding disgruntled.

"But then-"

"I had it memorized."

Sebastian blinks. "You remembered the entire thing and described it to the artist while drunk?" he asks, somewhat skeptical as he scratches his nail along the edges and watches as the skin raises in irritation. "Impressive."

"Quite," Jim says, and now he sounds impatient. "Now as much as I don't mind you ogling my arse, would you mind getting on with- nghn."

Jim lets out a strangled sound, and grips the sheets. Sebastian smirks, and nudges Jim's legs farther apart, spreading his cheeks before leaning in and licking another long stripe down. Jim's answering moan is needy and he presses back against Sebastian's tongue, nearly tearing the sheets when Sebastian prods gently, pressing inside before darting back out and repeating the motion until Jim is practically writhing against the bed.

He pulls away for a moment, licking his lips before starting again, sliding his finger in next to his tongue. It's a heady feeling, having Jim at his mercy like this, but it's better than anything he could have possibly thought up on his own. It's real.

"Seb," Jim practically growls, and Sebastian hums in reply, crooking his finger and searching for a moment before pressing up. The resulting jolt and groan from Jim is worth it, and Sebastian can't help the smug look that creeps onto his face. "Seb, I mean it. Get - unh - Get on with it."

"But I like you like this," Sebastian hums, and that must feel interesting because Jim arches his back and fucking whimpers, and if that's not the hottest thing Sebastian's heard to date, he doesn't know what is. "You're all spread out for me, making pretty noises. I could keep you like this forever. Actually, I think I might. I wonder if you could come just from th-"

He's cut off when Jim kicks him in the side, and turns over, pulling Sebastian on top of him for a rough kiss. It's all greed and no finesse, and Sebastian groans into Jim's mouth, rutting against him desperately. He'd forgotten his own arousal, too concentrated on Jim and the image of him, arse up and moaning as he was licked open, that tattoo displayed perfectly, but now that Jim's is against him, it's back in full force.

"You've had your fun with that bloody tattoo," Jim hisses, wild eyed and panting. He reaches over into the nightstand and scrambles to open the drawer, grinning triumphantly when his hands find the lube. "But the teasing's over now, darling. Get to it."

It's all the persuading Sebastian needs. He takes the bottle from Jim and slicks his fingers, pressing two into him without any preamble. Jim gasps, and digs his nails into Sebastian's arms. "Easy. Christ."

"Sorry," Seb murmurs, pausing the movements of his fingers when a thought strikes him. "You...you have done this before right?"

"Have you?" Jim asks, eyes flashing in frustration. He grinds back against Sebastian's fingers, and Sebastian almost blacks out when he thinks of how that movement might feel on his cock. "You're certainly taking your time. Stalling? Nervous, virgin jitters?"

And that's all the provoking Sebastian can take. He leans down and crushes his lips against Jim's, biting and devouring as he pushes another finger inside of him. Jim cries out, and Sebastian can hear his heart thrumming hard in his chest as he takes his time stretching him. Because no matter how infuriating Jim was being, he'd never been the type who'd liked having his partners be uncomfortable. 

"Seb, I'm not going to break," Jim breathes, one hand fisted tightly in Sebastian's hair, the other gripping his shoulder tightly. His whole body is screaming with tension, and when Sebastian reaches down and runs his fingertips over his cock, finding him hard and leaking, he gasps, grabbing Sebastian's wrist. 

"Seems like you're about to break to me," Seb breathes, smirking when Jim fixes him with a murderous glare. He kisses him again, and pulls away before Jim can snap at him again. "Turn over." He pats Jim's hip, and takes the lube again, pouring some in his hand and stroking himself with it. The relief makes him groan, but he stops when he realized just how on edge he is. 

He catches Jim's eye, and the heat that moves between the two of them crackles in the air. 

"If you don't fuck me right now," Jim enunciates, his voice low and trembling. "I am going to fucking castrate you." 

Sebastian doesn't need to be told twice. He moves behind Jim, pinning his arms behind his back, forcing all of his weight onto his neck and shoulders. With his other hand he guides himself into Jim, both of them groaning at the feeling. It's all tight, slicked warmth, and Sebastian has to grip Jim's hip tightly to stop himself from continuing to thrust into him. He lets out a shaky breath, and digs his fingers into Jim's skin, doing his best to restrain himself and give Jim time to adjust to the feeling of being full. 

Beneath him, Jim is breathing evenly, and when he finally opens his eyes, they're blazing. "Sebastian," he moans, coming the closest to begging that Sebastian thinks he'll ever hear. 

He doesn't wait. He pulls out quickly, and then pushes back in with a groan, starting a harsh rhythm, and losing himself in the feeling of Jim hot and tight around him. Jim looks debauched. His hair, usually slicked back and composed, falls onto his forehead and sticks up in the places Sebastian had run his fingers through it. His eyes are closed and his mouth is open as he pants, small noises escaping him every time Sebastian pushes in just the right way. It's the most vulnerable Sebastian can remember ever seeing him, and he almost misses the beginning of the heat pooling in his stomach, signaling that he's close. 

"Jim," he gasps, letting the desperation show in his voice. Jim opens his eyes and the unrepentant want in them nearly does Sebastian right then.

"I know," Jim breathes, and Sebastian lets go of his wrists. As soon as he does, Jim's hand is on his cock, stroking himself quickly. And after that it's only a matter of seconds before he's shuddering underneath Sebastian, groaning out his name, completely wrecked. The sound is all Sebastian needs to push him over the edge, and he's following shortly after, gasping. He pulls out at the last second, and strokes himself through it, painting Jim's lower back, and the tattoo, with his come. 

Jim collapses beneath him, and Sebastian drops onto him, earning a semi-pained grunt from Jim. They breathe against each other, and Sebastian tries his best to work through the way his mind is swimming, floating pleasantly on a bed of endorphins and satisfaction, breathing in the smell of a well fucked Jim. He knows the fall out is probably going to come soon though, and he prepares himself for it, though right now he's too blissed out to really care. 

Jim stirs, and Sebastian rolls over, feeling sticky and maybe a little manic if the grin on his face is anything to go by. 

"Did you really just-"

"Yeah." 

"That's what I thought." Jim turns over and reaches back, grimacing when he feels the mess on his back. He looks relatively calm though, so Sebastian stays where he is since the threat of Jim snapping and injuring something vital seems small. He watches carefully. He'd been taken in by Jim's masks before. 

"Well," he says, raising an eyebrow at Sebastian. "Glad you got that out of your system?"

Sebastian nods, sighing. In the clear. "Yes, actually." 

"Good. Because you're not going to fuck me bare for a long time," Jim says sweetly, pressing a kiss to Sebastian's nose before getting up and making his way over to the shower. Sebastian groans and falls back against the bed. He should have known Jim wouldn't let it go so easily.

"Oh come on," he leers, trying not to let the whine creep into his voice. "What if I help you clean up? There's more than enough room for two in the shower." He waggles his eyebrows at Jim, and earns a snort of amusement in return.

"Oh you're definitely going to help me clean up," Jim says, shooting Sebastian a smirk over his shoulder before disappearing into the bathroom. "With your mouth."


End file.
